You won't mind
by TexDinoco
Summary: Lightning tells Doc about the most eventful week of his life. [cross-posted form AO3]


"Doc, you'll never believe the week I just had."

It's reasonably warm out, not too hot, not too windy, and there's just enough daylight left for Lightning to enjoy the way the light breeze brings a feeling of familiar comfort. He's tired, more tired than he's ever felt in his life, the stress of his re-entry to the racing scene still hasn't left him alone.

"Rusty and Dusty sold the company. Sold it so some rich superfan, and when I say superfan, I'm not kidding. The guy had jars of dirt from old tracks and a piece of tar from the track I made my first win on. And I had this trainer—by far one of the most interesting people I've ever met. Her name's Cruz, I think you'd really like her if you ever got to meet her." He wears a soft smile at the memory of Cruz's many odd training methods. "Funny story, actually, she and I got wrapped up in a demolition derby. It was my fault, but we both walked away unscathed and she actually won! We made it to Thomasville, too. We met your old crew chief, Smokey, and your old friends, they had a lot to say about you that you'd never even told me! I knew you were a clever racer, but I never knew the extent of it."

The brief silence he falls in to isn't uncomfortable in any way. It, too, is familiar. For as long as he'd known Doc, the older racer had never been very talkative. It was always Lightning who'd filled the silence, talking on and on until Doc had sometimes pleaded with him to be quiet, even if only for two minutes.

"Florida was a hard race. Maybe the hardest one I've ever raced. I knew my chances of winning were low. I don't think anyone out there in the stands was really rooting for me, I think they all knew too. Halfway through the race I just pulled in to the pits and just...I don't even know how to explain it. I put Cruz in the race, she deserved it a whole lot more than I did. I know I said she was my trainer, but she's a racer, too. She was the entire time; I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to see it. I gave her my number and it wasn't long before she was out there dominating the track! And that's not even the best part, I got to be her crew chief, and it didn't even feel wrong to sit up there and see the track from a whole new perspective. I just felt right— and that isn't even the best part, either!" The grin on his face has gone from soft and tried to something more prominent, something proud. "Storm tried playing dirty, he tried running her in to the wall, tried to get her out of the race, but she—well, she decided she wasn't gonna touch any wall, not unless she wanted to. I wish you could have seen the look on Storm's face when she passed him. It was priceless!" 

Lightning takes a short moment to compose himself, get his excitement under control before he can speak again. 

"I knew she could win, she had it in her, but I didn't know she could do that. She's gonna be tough competition when I get back out on the track, but I look forward to a good challenge. But in a way, it's friendly competition. She's my teammate now. She races for Dinoco, and so do I—kind of. She got offered the Dinoco sponsorship. And then Mr. Dinoco went and bought Rust-eze from Mr. Dunn, and I get to keep racing, no strings attached. And I get to keep my number instead of it going up to grabs for whatever rookie was gonna replace me. Cruz needed a number though, and I...I gave her yours. I know you won't mind. Smokey agreed, too. Said that if the number were to come out of retirement, she should be the one to take it. He said she deserved it. I think she does, and I know that if you got to know her, you would, too."

A breeze blows, pushing leaves on to the headstone in the grass beside him, and Lightning gingerly swipes them off, grinning when Doc's name, engraved in said stone, is visible again.

"I miss you, old man." He truly does, but not in the painful way he did before. It hurts less, now. Sometimes it doesn't even hurt at all. "There were several times I'd wished you were here to tell me I was being stupid and over thinking everything. It's not the same when I have to say it to myself. Sometimes it's hard to believe in yourself, I didn't think I'd ever face that problem, but there's a first time for everything. I'm sure it won't be the last time I find myself wishing for your help, either."

He gives the headstone one last gentle pat, like patting on old friend on the back, and the soft, tired, smile returns to his face.

It's only a matter of time before he'll be back here, relaying his latest adventures to Doc. And Doc, as always, will listen.


End file.
